Prayer and Desperation
by jlm110108
Summary: Charlie reacts when his mother comes home from the hospital


Alan Eppes lifted the shamash candle to light the first of the eight Hanukkah candles. "Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has kept us alive, and has preserved us, and enabled us to reach this time."

Charlie glanced at his mother. She had come home from the hospital this morning. She looked pale and weak, and Charlie had told her she should have stayed in the hospital for another day or two. The chemotherapy had taken a lot out of her, but she insisted on being home for the first night of Hanukkah. She looked at him and gave him a reassuring smile as the three of them murmured, "Amen."

When the prayers were finished, Alan headed to the kitchen, "Charlie and I actually made the latkes for tonight. They're not nearly as good as yours, of course, but I'm sure they'll do."

Charlie helped Margaret walk to the dining room table. As he supported her, he noticed once again how thin she had gotten. "Are you up to eating at the table? If you want, you can go back to the couch and I'll bring you your food."

"I'm fine, Sweetie," Margaret patted Charlie's hand. "I'm so glad to be home with my family."

"We're glad to have you here, Mom." Charlie pulled out a chair for her and helped her sit. "You just let me know if you get too tired, okay?"

Alan returned, carrying a platter of latkes and a bowl of applesauce. "Charlie, you're hovering. Go get the drinks, will you?"

With a worried glance at his mother, Charlie finally obeyed. When he returned, Alan was saying, "… tied up on a case, but he should be here some time tonight."

Margaret sighed. "I was hoping he'd be here in time tonight."

"Well, maybe that's why there are eight days in Hanukkah," Alan said as he passed the applesauce to Charlie. "It gives out of town sons a chance to get home."

----------------

After dinner, Charlie helped Margaret to the couch. "You sure you don't want to go up to bed?"

Margaret smiled. "Thank you, Sweetie. I want to enjoy the candles. And the Christmas tree." She gave Alan an amused glance. "Your great uncle must be rolling over in his grave."

"Wasn't he a rabbi? Charlie asked.

"Uncle Saul? Yeah, he was. If he were still alive, this would have killed him. As it is, I'm sure your mother's right about him rolling over in his grave." Alan couldn't help, but chuckle at the thought of what his great uncle would have said about the tree.

Charlie stood and said, "Uh… I have some work I need to do for class tomorrow. I'll be in the garage. Let me know when Donnie gets here, okay?"

-----------------

An hour later, Charlie opened the door from the garage. The living room and dining room were dark except for the flickering candle light from the hanukkiya and the blinking multicolored lights on the Christmas tree.

Margaret was sleeping fitfully on the couch. Alan had pulled a chair over and was stroking her cheek and murmuring softly. "…you kept us alive and enabled us to reach this time. This is supposed to be a time of miracles. Why can't you perform one more miracle and heal Margaret? We need her. It's not right to take her away from us."

Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes and he crept silently back into the garage. He sank down into the papasan chair and stared unseeing at the chalkboards. For the first time since his mother had come home from the doctor's office with the diagnosis of cancer, he realized that it was highly probable that she would not live to see another Hanukkah. His mother. She had been his rock. She was the one in the family who was always there for him. She had taken him to special tutors as long as he could remember. When he had decided that he wanted to go to Princeton, all the way across the country, she had gone with him. A few years later, he had learned, quite by accident, that that move had put her marriage at risk.

Even now, he was almost thirty years old, a tenured professor, highly respected in his field, and he lived at home with his parents. How was he going to face life without her? It wasn't right. It wasn't logical. She was young and very healthy up until now. She shouldn't be dying of cancer. Dying.

The wraith wasting away on the couch in the living room couldn't be his mother. His mother was a strong woman. A lawyer. A woman who tempered love with a sharp wit.

He drew up his knees and hugged them as tears ran down his cheeks. The numbers that were always running through his head caught his attention. Numbers were safe. They made sense. There were problems that people said were unsolvable. But there was no such thing. Unsolvable problems belonged to the complicated world of people, not the elegant world of numbers. P vs NP. Now there was a problem. Lesser mathematicians had tried for decades to solve that one.

* * *

"Charlie? Hey, Buddy!"

Charlie, chalk in his right hand and eraser in his left, attacked the blackboard.

"Charlie! Dad said you've been out here since dinner."

"Just a second. I need to get this down before I lose it."

"Charlie. It's almost midnight. I think you've already lost it." Don grabbed Charlie's arm, pulling the chalk from his fingers. "Mom's up and she's asking for you."

"Mom's awake?" Charlie said hoarsely. "Why don't you go ahead? Let me just finish this up, okay?"

Don grabbed Charlie by the shoulders and turned him. "Come on. You can do this later."

Charlie pulled away. "No! Leave me alone! I just need to finish this." He sobbed and turned back to the blackboard. "I'm so close…"


End file.
